Gemotions

The gleaming metal of the car mocked him. He'd spotted the wallet lying near the curb, a tempting target in the afternoon sun. He picked it up, feeling the familiar tightening in his chest, that familiar burn of discontent. This was someone else’s good fortune; someone else’s ease.

He pictured the owner, some privileged jerk likely rolling in money and getting everything handed to him. The image fed the dark current that ran beneath his skin. He shoved the wallet in his jacket and kicked the tire of the car, the metal of his shoe making a jarring impact.

He wanted to scream at the world, at its unfairness, at his own misfortunes. He wanted to watch everything around him burn, the anger a roaring fire in his gut. The rich man’s face flashed in his mind. He would not be the bigger person. Not today.